The Wilds Project.

Yellowstone’s thermals, weird lore, and why we stay on the boardwalks.

Every childhood photo of me at Yellowstone I’m red-faced, crying, holding my nose, begging my parents to stop making us look at all “the gee-sers.” My my, how the turn tables. Now every time I’m here, I geek out harder over the thermals. I may or may not have even said out loud (Jake and the girls will never let me live it down) that I love them so much I even love the smell. Nostalgia.

Lucky for me, the park’s got more than 10,000 hydrothermal features—geysers, hot springs, mudpots, fumaroles—the largest collection on Earth. Surface pools can run near-boiling (around 199°F/93°C at this elevation), and under pressure in Yellowstone Lake, vents have been measured at ~345°F. Otherworldly, wild, alive.

Dark history nuggets (the ones that stick)

Since the late 1800s, about 20+ people have died from entering or falling into Yellowstone’s thermal waters. More than grizzly bears in the same period. Yellowstone doesn’t play.

• The shoe at Abyss Pool (2022): Rangers found a shoe with part of a foot floating in Abyss Pool at West Thumb; investigators linked it to an unwitnessed incident days earlier. Unforgiving, even when it looks quiet.
• The man who vanished overnight (2016): After stepping off the boardwalk at Norris to “hot pot,” he slipped in. By morning, the acidic, near-boiling water had dissolved the remains; only his wallet and flip-flops were recovered.
• “Like hell I won’t.” (1981): David Kirwan dove into Celestine Pool to save a dog. The dog didn’t survive; neither did he. The water there has been measured at over 200°F.
• Early days, same danger (1890): Records note a seven-year-old, James Joseph Stumbo, who fell into a hot spring—the first documented thermal fatality on the books. The park was new; the water was not merciful.

That’s the part I can’t shake: one guy’s remains were never found—just his shoes at the edge; another dissolved before rangers could recover him; a man dove in after a dog; a child wandered too close. Gorgeous. Deadly. Unforgiving.

Why it looks like a rainbow (the bright note)

Those wild color bands at Grand Prismatic Spring? They’re alive. Heat-loving microbes (thermophiles) paint those rings—different communities bloom at different temperatures, shifting from deep blue at the hottest center to greens, yellows, and oranges where it’s cooler. Science meets magic.

Stewardship (a nice word for “don’t be dumb”)

You wanna melt your flesh, that’s your prerogative. I want these wonders to last another thousand years. So as for me and my house—we stay on the boardwalks. They protect us and the fragile crust that hides those boiling channels. Rangers say it every day for a reason.